


Just a Scratch

by MsLadySmith



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bumps and scrapes, Catching a Criminal, M/M, Minor Injuries, Mystrade Prompt Challenge, fluff and implied smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 20:36:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16249328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsLadySmith/pseuds/MsLadySmith
Summary: For the October 2018 Mystrade Prompt Challenge:Level: MEDIUMYour dialogue:  "What were you thinking?"The circumstances... in a bedroomYou must mention... an injury and a lost item





	Just a Scratch

The foot chase came to an abrupt end as Lestrade tackled the suspect when he decided to slip out of Donovan’s grasp and flee the scene.  “I don’t think so, mate,” Greg gasped, catching his breath as he pinned the man to the ground with a knee to his back.  “You and me, we need to have a little chat.”

“I didn’t do nothing!” Matthew James cried out from the street, still trying to twist out of the detective inspector’s grip.

Greg chuckled.  “Yeah, I might have believed that until you bolted.  Innocent men don’t take off when a police officer starts asking questions.”

Sally caught up to them and handed Greg her cuffs.  As he snapped them onto James’ wrists, he cautioned the suspect, informing him of his right to silence as per protocol.  Greg hauled him back to his feet and none-to-gently shoved him into Sally’s arms.  She stifled a laugh and escorted James to her car.

“Holmes better not be pissed at me,” Sally grinned at Greg, pointing at his torn pants and skinned knees and hands.

“Yeah, it’s nothing.  I’ve dealt with worse injuries at work – you know that.”

“Just so long as he knows it’s not my fault you took off after a suspect half your age and tackled him,” Sally said as she got into the car to drive off.

* * *

After a quick stop at A&E to get his scuffs looked over and treated, Greg headed home.  Mycroft wasn’t home yet, so he opted for a quick shower and crawled into bed for a nap.  He woke to fingers brushing over his cheek.  “Hey, love,” Greg mumbled sleepily as Mycroft settled on the edge of the bed.

“Hello, to you,” Mycroft smiled.  “So, are you going to explain these?” he nodded toward Greg’s various bandages.  “Or do I get to find out from your sergeant?”

“Occupational hazard.  Skinned up when I had to tackle a fleeing suspect,” Greg smiled back.  “I will live, I promise.”

“What were you thinking?  You shouldn’t be participating in foot pursuits,” Mycroft scowled a little. 

“Hush, you.  I’m not THAT old,” Greg rolled his eyes.

“I’m allowed to be concerned,” came the response.  “It has nothing to do with your age.  You’re only a few years beyond me, after all.”  Mycroft kissed his forehead.

“I can still keep up with you,” Greg reached up and pulled Mycroft’s lips to his own, his fingers working through the layers of his partner’s suit. 

* * *

Later that evening, Mycroft sat up, surveying the bedroom, with his clothing strewn haphazardly by the bed.  He carefully unwound Greg’s nude form from his own and climbed out of bed to put things back in order.

Greg woke slowly, and watched Mycroft as he gathered up his suit, putting the pieces back onto hangers properly.  Myc’s eyes caught his.  “Ah, you’re awake.  I seem to have lost one of my cufflinks.  Might you know what could have happened to it?” Mycroft said with a silly grin.

“I think your shirt landed over in the corner.  Wasn’t paying much attention, to be honest.”

“Perhaps you could give me a chance to take my cufflinks off before you ravish me, next time?” Myc raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe.  I’ll think about it.  Now get back over here.  I need ravishing.” Greg leered.

“Insatiable,” Myc grumbled, sliding back under the duvet and curling up against Greg’s warmth.


End file.
